Moving On
by montblanc9
Summary: This is a story I've been writing, so all the charaters belong to me ! :3


Chapter 1;;

Moving day; again. My family moves constantly, every time they promise we won't move again. But I know that dream is futile. I guess I can't really blame them though, my dad _needs_ this job. His boss knows that my dad's the one to trust and thankfully my dad gets paid well for this. My mom has given up on looking for a job –though I must admit her resume does look great. I had been the first to pack I didn't want to waist anytime. I had given up a long time ago, every place we move too; it just seems to get worse for me. Kids at each school don't even talk to me. It's not like I'm a freak, I just like to keep to myself. If they knew how my life ran they would do the same.

It's not like I hate people though, I just rather not grow close to someone and have to say good bye time after time. My past experiences have burned me far too much for me to keep making friends. I can't remember what it was like having a friend actually, hanging out every now and then, screwing around like idiots. The longest we've stayed in one place was in Virginia for four years. From my birth to age four- obviously. I had many friends but none of them were close. We were young and simple minded. We played with the kids who had the coolest toys or the mom who liked to give us junky, fatty snacks.

This time I prayed to God that it would be the last time and that I would actually make a friend. I had no idea where we were moving though, I walked out of the empty house shutting the door and I put the last box in the car and got in. I whipped out my I-pod from my pocket and turned it on. I buckled my seatbelt and closed my eyes.

"Her headaches are constant, increasing in pain with each passing day. She can't even manage to stand on her own, it's gotten so bad. Now you think of saying there's no use in praying and still, she bows her head, so she can say: Thank You for just one more day. Supernatural patience, graces her face and her voice never raises, all because of a love. Never let go of, never let go of.

He has every reason to throw up his fists in the face of his God, who let his mother die. Through all the prayers and tears, she still passed in pain anyway. Now you think of saying: There's no use in praying and still, he bows his head so he can say: Thank You for ending her pain. Supernatural patience graces his face and his voice never raises. All because of a love, never let go of. Never let go of...

He is teaching me... What love really means... Supernatural patience graces his face and his voice never raises. All because of a love never let go of. Yes it's Supernatural patience, graces his face and his voice never raises. All because of a love. Never let go of. Never let go of. He is teaching me... What love really means..."

I was slowly drifting into a sleep that would, hopefully, last the whole entire trip. I wasn't going to ask any questions, I was just going to wait. My mom and dad were in the front talking, I locked eyes with my dad in the rearview mirror as he mouthed "I love you Kitt." And I could see my mom mouthing "I love you too, Kitherine." Though my music was drowning them out, I could still hear their voices. I smiled.

I reopened my eyes, it was now night time and ironically my I-pod had been playing the instrumental version of Last Night, Good Night that I had downloaded before I left. The stars were passing by and the lights on the freeway hung over us. I looked to the front of the car, my mom was now driving. That was a trick my parents did to save time and not having the need to stop at a hotel every night. My mother or dad would fall asleep while the one of them drove and when the one who was driving got too tired to drive the simply switched spots.

"Last Night~" I silently sang to myself. "Good Niiiight~" I pressed my face against the window. Lights of gas stations and twenty four hour fast food joints and restaurants came and left fast. If my eyes were a camera I would have had so many pictures of my car rides, all the people I've met, all the landscapes and places I have seen. I closed my eyes again as I tried to remember them all. Flashes of little kid's faces and various flowers flew by, lights from rusty or new cars drove and left, the clouds and the sun would turn into night. The highway we were driving on turned into a small road in quite place it seemed. Hopefully it was just a detour; I had never lived anywhere quiet. My family settled down in fast, lively places perhaps so they could work with the pace around them- at least that's what I liked about them. I never really liked to slow down, I like to be lazy but also I like to get things done fast and quick so there'll be more time for relaxing later.

Our nice, navy blue Traverse pulled into a gravel driveway that belonged to a nice, quiet house which was surrounded by plant life. The roots of various plants climbed up the walls and traced the lines of the bricks. The house looked like it had two floors, it was mostly brick and then it transferred into a white metal like frame. The door and window shatters looked old and seemed to require new coats of paint. I held on to my cream-knitted hat a soft breeze came by, my hair and unzipped jacket went with the breeze. Leaves and sticks flew by as my mom and dad walked toward the door, my mother took out a set of keys and inserted them in the lock, when the door opened my parents stepped inside. Frankly I thought the trip would have been longer, but it was rather short- but my parents have been known to speed from time to time. I walked to the back yard a metal fence lined out a huge chunk of land, which was now ours I presumed. There were tons of trees within the land; it seemed to obtain many hills after years of erosion. I walked around and in the center a big tree was growing, attached to the biggest, sturdiest branch was and old rope and attached to the rope was a tire, which seemed quite new compared to the rope. I sat inside the tire and pushed myself off the ground with my legs I began to pick up speed with every kick I performed. I looked up in between the leaves on the trees, you could see parts of the sky scattered everywhere, the moonlight was softly kissing the leaves and the stars were fully booming.

In the distance I could hear a faint calling, my parents most likely. I jumped off the swing, brushed the dirt of the knees of my black skinny jeans, and sprinted towards the front as my parents were bringing boxes in the house. My mom shrugged a shoulder towards the open trunk. "Grab some boxes would you, sweetie?" She asked me, gently yawning; I went to trunk and began to pick up a box. It was big and heavy and on the top of the cardboard flaps the word 'Books' was written on the top. I began to pick it up without much struggling I was sort of like an ant. I could carry things heavier than me, but probably nothing twice my weight. I stepped up the porch steps when something to my right caught my attention. A porch swing. How many swings did this place have? I continued my trip into the house slowly losing my grip.

I stepped into the living room as fast I could without dropping the box. It was nice and much more new looking on the inside. I set the book filled box next to others and walked outside continuing to carry more and more boxes in to the house.


End file.
